


Catnip

by TwiceALady



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/M, M/F Sex, Masturbation, Mild Language, Voyeurism, hansanna - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 11:43:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19228477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwiceALady/pseuds/TwiceALady
Summary: In an arranged marriage where Anna is sent to the Southern Isles and married to Hans, the couple have yet to consummate their vows. Anna’s innocent view of the world is at odds in her new home where debauchery runs rampant. After being exposed to the seedier side of the Westergaards, Hans is more than happy to ‘educate’ her properly. Hansanna OneshotWarnings: NSFW. Language, M/F Sex, Masturbation, Voyeurism.





	Catnip

**Author's Note:**

> A post-canon, forced arranged marriage AU I was toying with awhile ago, but could never get an actual story to form out of it. Reworked into a oneshot.

It took her only a moment to recognize what it was she was seeing, and covered her mouth in surprise. Hans’s brother—she wasn’t sure which one—had his back to her as he straddled a bent over chambermaid, her skirts bunched around her waist and buttocks lifted high, tight against his groin. His hips jerked rhythmically with force, followed by the sound of slapping flesh and low grunting.

Anna stared wide eyed at the scene, horrified to come across something so private out in the open. An intimate act meant for closed doors displayed lewdly before her. She needed to get out of here, and quietly. Her faced flushed scarlet and she quickly backed away, bumping straight into the solid form of a man, and something stiff jabbing into the small of her back. She inhaled to scream, only to have a hand clamp down over her mouth.

_Oh God_.

 She panicked. One of them had her. One of them was going to drag her off and she’d be just like that maid—

“ _Quiet_ ,” he hissed in her ear, and she breathed a sigh of relief, recognizing Hans. She nodded, still trembling as he removed his hand from her mouth, quickly and quietly scooting her away from the vulgar scene she had stumbled upon.

Retreating her back upstairs to the safety of their quarters, Hans let her go, closing the door behind them. Anna sat down on the chaise, suddenly feeling rather faint. Hans moved wordlessly to the small liquor cabinet and side board.

“Welcome to the Southern Isles,” he said, pulling the stopper off a decanter and pouring the caramel coloured liquid into two glasses. There was a hint of disgust in his voice, an apology left unsaid. He handed her a glass and Anna gingerly took it. Her hand still trembled as she put the glass to her lips, taking a sip. She shivered, her face contorting to a grimace when tasting the bitter liquid for the first time. She swallowed politely, the hair on her arms standing on end.

He stood with his back to her, tipping his own glass back, prompting Anna to take a moment to survey her new husband. Trying to forget that only a few short minutes ago, she had felt his arousal pressed against her back.

Without his tailcoat on, she had a clear view of his physique, noting that his buttocks looked rather taut in his snug fitting trousers. His legs were impossibly long, and his hips just as narrow to match, but, as she travelled her eyes up his back, that’s where any slenderness faded. His torso was an eruption of bulk—broad shoulders, and even through his linen shirt, she could see his arm muscles straining the fabric seams when he moved. His hands were equally muscular, but his long fingers tapered eloquently with the reminded grace of a pianist.

She knew she shouldn’t say it out loud, lest he get any ideas, but the question burned on her mind. Terrified of the answer she might get from him, she decided to ask anyway. It was better to know than not. Anna tried to keep her voice steady and nonchalant.

“Is that how you’ll do it with me?”

He coughed, a wheezing, sputtering sound, quickly placing the glass in hand on the sideboard. He turned to her then, his eyes intent on hers. “Is that what you want?”

The question was so strange coming from him, and Anna didn’t have an immediate answer. Honestly, she didn’t think she had a say in the matter. By law she was his. His to do whatever he wished with, and yet, he’d not laid a hand on her the way a husband was supposed to. He’d not come to her bed, or called her to his.

She shook her head no, remembering the way the chambermaid grunted, as though coupling was an unpleasant chore, and not something to be engaged in willingly.

A hint of a smile played across his lips. “I thought not.” He moved towards her, like some predatory beast, and Anna involuntarily shrank back. She stifled a gasp as he lifted one long leg over the end of the chaise she sat on, sitting to straddle it and face her.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to his spread thighs, inching their way to his groin. There was no prominent bulge of manhood poking out at her like she’d felt earlier against her back. He chuckled, the sound thick and husky. Anna blushed, forcing her eyes up only to meet his gaze again.

She wished she hadn’t. There was something knowing in his eye, something hungry. Something she instinctively understood and matched in her own gaze. A slick thrum of heat coursed through her body; a slow, soft ache forming in her belly the longer she stared at him.

His tongue slipped across his teeth, the flash of pink stirring her. She felt her nipples instantly go hard against her corset, rubbing gently on the stiff fabric with each breath she took. It was a maddening sensation, one that made her shift in her seat and tense her thighs. She swallowed nervously. She had never felt this way in a man’s presence before, and was only mildly disgusted with herself for feeling it with Hans.

“If not that,” he began slowly, his voice lilting and hypnotic, “then _what_ would my lady like?”

The way he said it sent uncontrollable shivers of delight down her spine, making her squirm. The dull ache between her thighs had now turned to a prominent throbbing sensation. She didn’t know what she wanted. This strange new feeling to go away perhaps? To find some sort of relief for what currently ailed her? Her eyes drifted down to his groin, suddenly wildly curious about him.

“I see,” he murmured softly when she didn’t answer him. “So, it’s a guessing game, is it?”

Anna held her breath, watching curiously as he slid his hand over the fall front of his trousers. Palm flat and open, he began to rub himself in a lazy, teasing motion. Anna couldn’t tear her gaze away from his rather lewd behaviour. Her breath hitched as the flesh beneath his trousers hardened at his touch.

“Is it this?” he asked, his palm now closing around the shape of his manhood in a rough grip.

Mesmerized, Anna could only nod.

A small, involuntary sound escaped her lips as he flicked open one of the buttons on his fall front. He pushed the fabric back, the modesty panel underneath still buttoned up. He slipped his hand between the placket of buttons and fall front, sighing softly. His hand began to move again, and Anna dearly wished she could see all of what was going on underneath that slip of fabric.

“The other button,” she gasped, surprised her voice had worked at all to give the request. “Undo the other button.”

“Of course, dear wife.” He purred the words at her, making Anna cross her legs in an attempt to quell the fiery heat in her loins, hoping desperately the friction of her legs together could grant her some relief from the frustrating desire she felt. It took every ounce of her dignity not to touch herself down there as he popped open the last button on his fall front.

The fabric fell away, and Anna let out a soft whimper at the sight of his manhood; rosy hued with thickness and length that made her eyes widened with want. He was beautiful. She had no idea men looked like _that_. Not at all the limp, shrivelled little things dangling between the legs of subjects in paintings.

His cock stood firm and proud from the base, surrounded by a nest of auburn curls, the head shining with a slick wetness beading from the tip. He gripped the shaft firmly, but his hand kept still.

She unconsciously licked her lips. She could feel her own dampness, her own curls now wet at her entrance. Her slit practically begging to be touched. She squirmed again in her seat, unable to get any reprieve from the throbbing wetness between her thighs.

“I…I want to see your hand move,” she blurted out, her face flushing even redder. “Slowly, and in the same rhythm as if you were…” her voice trailed off in embarrassment.

“Fucking?” he asked. She could hear the grin on his lips without looking up at him to see it.

She swallowed hard, her mouth clamped shut, but nodding her head furiously.

He obliged her request almost immediately, stroking his length slowly, his hand tense around his shaft, his foreskin pulled back from over the head. Anna watched carefully, surprised that he didn’t move his fist just straight up and down, but instead with a slight twist of his wrist, sliding his hand languidly all over his length. She noticed he left the head alone, and she wondered why. The dark wine coloured cap, now fully exposed and ignored, piqued her curiosity.

He sighed again softly, his pace quickening.

“Don’t,” Anna instructed, alarmed. She couldn’t study the exact movement of his wrist when he moved his hand faster. He drew up short with a disparaging grunt, his hand coming to an abrupt halt. “Slower…please.”

A small, amused laugh escaped his lips, as though he couldn’t believe what she was asking of him. Nevertheless, he brought his tempo back to the same indolent rhythm he’d started with.

“No…” Anna frowned, leaning forward and trying to gauge just how tightly he was gripping himself. “Slower.”

“Jesus,” he hissed, his breath coming in much heavier pants. It took him a moment to move even slower, but he did as she asked. “You’re really putting my discipline to task here.”

Anna watched intently, trying to burn the image into her memory, carefully taking note of how he moved and how his body reacted to the movement. Curiosity getting the better of her. She glanced up at his face to see he had beads of sweat glistening across his forehead as though he’d just been for a run. His mouth was partly open in what looked like a permanent state of words that wouldn’t sound, and his eyes had a funny glazed over look. He didn’t look like he was uncomfortable, but the strain of physical exertion upon his creased brow was clear.

“Hans—”

“Don’t say my name!” He jerked out of his rhythm, his body shivering as he quickly pinched the tip of his cock between his forefinger and thumb, cursing in pain.

“You don’t like it?” she asked, startled by his behaviour.

“Quite the opposite,” he answered between gasps, his chest rising and falling. He let go of his cock, trying to catch his breath. “I’m afraid I won’t sate your curiosity as much as you’d like with my name on your lips. I’m at the point where I can barely indulge your whims as it is.”

She hardly thought any of her requests had been that difficult to perform. “Why not?”

He laughed then, a startled, hoarse sound, and stared at her in disbelief. “You’ve never dabbled in any of this before have you?”

Anna was offended. What did he think? That she was some common strumpet? “Of course not! I assure you, I am an unspoiled bride.”

“I know _that_ ,” he said, gently. “I meant by yourself. You’ve never touched yourself, like what I’ve been doing just now.”

“No,” Anna answered, suddenly feeling defensive. “I’ve never wanted to.”

“And what about now?”

His question made her all too aware of how she’d felt watching him. How she had wanted to slide her hand under her skirts and past her drawers to touch that secret place that yearned for release. How her wet desire had already dampened her drawers, calling for her immediate attention.

“Now?” Her voice faltered with that single word.

He nodded as his expression melted into something akin to playful innocence. “It’s only fair. I showed you mine, sated your curiosity. So…how about you sate mine?”

Anna reached for her drink, wary of Hans and the way he was now watching her. She tipped the glass back, needing the bit of liquid courage more than she had thought. She’d never touched herself before. Never had bothered with exploring her body. The urge had never been there.

It was never something she had been curious about, and besides, everything she had been taught by harsh governesses and her lady in waiting had made it perfectly clear that proper ladies didn’t do such things. Proper ladies didn’t need to be interested in sex or pleasure. That wasn’t a good wife’s duty. Her role as a wife was to lay with her husband in order to procure an heir. The image of the grunting chambermaid entered her mind again, and she grimaced.

“It…it wouldn’t be proper,” she decided aloud. She thought she heard him snicker.

Hans shifted, and Anna looked up at him, watching as he unbuttoned his waistcoat. A sudden panic laced through her.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Getting more comfortable,” he replied, his voice still smooth and pleasant as the waistcoat fell from his shoulders, and he slipped it off, tossing it to the floor.

“I never said—”

“I know,” he placated, and he suddenly looked too sweet, too agreeable. “I’m not going to take you as my wife today, so you needn’t worry that’s where we’re going with this. I’m just like you…curious.”

“Curious…” Anna hesitated. “About me?” No one had ever been interested in her, let alone curious. His words startled her, pressing that warm feeling of desire further to the front of her mind.

“Yes.” His hand was back on his cock, stroking it lightly.

Anna swallowed, her eyes drawn back to his crotch. His hand moved with comfortable ease.

“We’re simply getting to know each other as a husband and as a wife, nothing improper about _that_ , right?” His palm grazed across that delightful wine kissed head, and she heard him sigh. “We’re in our own private quarters, just the two of us—”

“And if I say no, then what will you do?”

“Whatever it is you want of me.”

“I—I don’t believe you,” Anna replied, remembering the way the rest of his brothers had looked at her—leered at her in ways that had made her cautious and uncomfortable. Hans had come from the same lot, how was she to believe he’d be any different? It wasn’t as if honesty and a good moral fibre were traits he possessed.

“That’s fair,” he mused. “Given our history, I can see that, but I assure you, Anna, as my wife, you need never be afraid of me. I offer you complete devotion and adoration. Your happiness is my happiness.”

Anna frowned. It sounded too good to be true. She narrowed her gaze in suspicion. “Why?”

He stopped stroking his cock, and Anna watched as he hesitated, his tongue flicking across his lips as though he was debating his answer. “Because,” he answered finally, and much more quietly than she’d expected. “You’re mine. For the first time in my life, I have something that solely belongs to me.”

“You make it sound like I’m a possession—”

“I belong to you too, you know. It goes both ways.”

“You’d give yourself to me, as mine?” she asked, the skepticism clear.

He smiled affably, his eyes wide and innocent as he gestured to himself sitting exposed on their chaise. “Am I not doing that right now?”

“Prove it.” She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. “I want to see you finish.” If he truly had no intention of taking her virtue and was simply curious about her, then he’d be able to spill his seed in front of her without complaint.

“Finish?” he asked, his head tilting playfully to the side in mock confusion.

Her face went beet red. “You know what I mean.”

He grinned. “I’m afraid I don’t, you’ll have to be much more _explicit_ in your instructions.”

The way he’d said ‘explicit’ had her loins on fire. He’d chosen that word deliberately, and Anna didn’t think her face could go any redder than it already was. It was sheer reflex that she reached out and shoved him, her hands flat against that bulk of a chest. His body knocked backwards, but only slightly. “You’re impossible!” she cried, not really meaning the words at all, but she stood up from the chaise, vexed and heated, and aroused beyond comprehension.

She needed distance from him, but at the same time, wanted to be nearer to him. It was all very confusing, and Anna had never felt like this with anyone. Not even Kristoff.

She went to step past him and move to the window seat, only to trip over his foot, which he’d deliberately stuck out, and in her way. She tumbled face first, forward, arms flailing, only to have him generously reach out and catch her as she fell into his waiting arms. He pulled her close as though he was some gallant protector, and now she was sitting in his lap.

“Careful, those carpet tassels, they’ll get you.”

“It was your foot,” she mumbled, her face buried in his chest, and God, he smelled so good.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Sorry, I have big feet.” Though he wasn’t sorry in the least.

“Let me go, you’re suffocating me!” Anna complained, and to her surprise, he loosened his grip on her. She immediately pulled her head up from his chest and tipped her chin up in defiance, scowling at him. “Honestly! What’s wrong with you?”

His head tilted to the side again reminding her of a cat. That playful, little grin slipping over his lips. “Probably the same thing that’s wrong with you.” And he leaned his head in towards hers.

The kiss happened before she had time to register that it was going to happen. Just a feathery brush of lips against hers, soft, quiet and exactly enough to render her speechless. When he pulled away, she stared at him dumbfounded. She would have followed him to the moon and back in that moment if he had asked her to.

And he looked so smug about it, like he had won some sort of game, and something ignited in her. Something that immediately made her want to defy him, challenge him and prove him wrong.

“What the hell kind of kiss was that?” she demanded, and he blinked at her in surprise as his spell over her melted away. Before he could answer, she moved on him, grabbing him forcefully by his cravat, and kissing him back fiercely. He made a strangled, muffled noise as she speared her tongue past his lips and into his mouth.

***

She had caught him completely off guard, hooked him in mere seconds. The heat of her mouth, the softness of her lips mingled with the ferocity of a kiss the likes of which he’d never known had him instantly reeling. Basking in her touch and craving her, sending the most delicious notes of pleasure singing through his body, zipping straight to his center.

It was too much, too fast, and try as he might to slow things down, Anna fought him, relentless in her pursuit. She had moved, wriggling herself into a more accommodating position on his lap so that she could reach his mouth easier. Her tongue danced with his while her thigh pressed into his engorged cock. The taffeta of her skirt rubbing against his naked skin, sending him into a frenzy, and on the very brink of a hurried, heated climax. Seconds away from embarrassment.

He wrenched his mouth from hers in a desperate attempt to take back control of the situation. The scent of her skin, warm and inviting in the small space between them nearly killed him. “Wait,” he gasped as her hand gripped the back of his head. “Slow down!”

But Anna wouldn’t wait and her mouth was back on his, her body brushing against him, soft mewls of pleasure drifting from her throat. And it was too much.

His orgasm mounted, his senses on fire, consumed solely by Anna; her scent, her sound, her thigh pressed into his manhood, that damned skirt fabric rubbing him—

He groaned, dismay and pleasure filling him, pushing him to the limits of his control and he came, fast and blinding. Hard. Spilling onto her thigh. Onto that taffeta skirt. He panted, his body shuddering, coming down from the unexpected high. Mortification seeping in when Anna stiffened against him, her lips pulling from his abruptly.

She stared at him, meeting his gaze for only the briefest of seconds before her eyes travelled down to her lap. To his spent cock. Hans watched as her features contorted to that of confusion, the wet evidence of his seed already soaked into the fabric of her skirt.

He swallowed down his shame as best as he could. “I’m sorry,” he started, hating how he sounded in that moment. “This has never—”

“Did you just spend?” she asked, her voice uncharacteristically high and baffled.

Defensiveness took over then, and he shrugged her off his lap, rising and fastening up his trousers, quickly tucking his limp member away and out of sight. The humiliation stinging him. He could not believe he’d just ejaculated, and prematurely onto her dress. “I told you I was already well on my way playing your little game of Simon Says. Any man would be at his brink…a lesser man wouldn’t have lasted at all this long!”

She was preoccupied with the darkened wet spot on her skirt. “Will this come out?”

“I don’t know,” he snapped. Feeling suddenly irritable. He’d just come all over her, and her main concern was the condition of her clothes. She didn’t even seem to acknowledge his embarrassment, his utter humiliation—

“Why are you angry with me?” Her eyes were wide, a hint of hurt flickering in her gaze.

“I’m not,” he insisted, his hand raking haphazardly through his hair. This was a god damned mess, a disaster. He’d only been trying to seduce his virgin wife, not have her turn the tables and seduce him instead, and in far less time too. God, he hoped to hell she didn’t say anything about this to anyone. He’d never live it down.

“Well, you’re obviously upset, and I don’t know why.” She had moved away from him, sounding perturbed. She went to the side board and poured seltzer onto a napkin, dabbing her skirt with the damp cloth. “I asked you to finish for me and you did.”

He stared at her, stunned stupid by just how matter of fact she sounded. As if he’d somehow tricked her and orchestrated the whole thing to this end from the start. He wanted to bark at her that it was poor form to come early as though he was some dumb fucking green boy, but Anna just didn’t seem to care, or think anything was out of sorts.

She gave a sigh, placing the napkin down. “I’ll need to get this laundered, I think. You’ll have to excuse me while I go change.” She strolled to her bedchamber door and stopped with her hand on the knob, turning to him slowly. “I suppose you christening my gown like this makes you mine.”

She disappeared into her room, the door clicking shut firmly, and his mouth went dry. Trying to quell how quickly his pulse raced at her words, he sat back down on the chaise, staring at her door and wondering what the hell had just happened exactly, and why he was suddenly feeling so giddy about it.


End file.
